


Not Afraid

by roxiefierce



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief Reference to Wanting Kids, Explicit Language, F/M, Family Drama, Family Reunions, Loneliness, Minor Violence, References to Home Alone Movies, Self-Esteem Issues, home alone au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27788674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxiefierce/pseuds/roxiefierce
Summary: Old Man Solo is a murderer, they say. A monster. He certainly feels like one, isolated from his family and the only woman he ever loved. But his encounters with one boy over a few days may give him reason to hope again.The Home Alone/Star Wars AU nobody asked for!
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	Not Afraid

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, if you celebrate! If not, Happy Holidays in general!
> 
> The idea for this popped into my head during my yearly rewatch of _Home Alone_. I don't know why I never saw it before, but Ben Solo jumped right into my head watching all of the scenes with the old man next door. Some dialogue borrowed from there and a bunch reworked.
> 
> Please read the tags! As always, feel free to reach out if you think I need to add any tags. I'm happy to do so!
> 
> Enjoy!

moodboard by [bensoloswhore](https://twitter.com/bensoloswhore)

“Hey, I’m not afraid anymore!” The boy’s shouting draws his attention. “I said, I’m not afraid anymore! Do you hear me? I’m not afraid anymore!”

He’s not sure who the boy is talking to—he’d thought the whole family was away, actually. It’s why he was out here salting the sidewalks. No need for anyone to slip just because a few families went away. They were lucky enough to be able to visit family. Besides, it gave him something to do. Distracted him.

A scream startles him from his thoughts and he realizes the boy has spotted him. It takes only a moment for the boy to disappear back into the house, slamming the door behind him. Ben bites back a sigh. He knows he shouldn’t let it bother him. And he’s the first to admit his appearance isn’t very inviting. His scar is greeted with wide-eyed stares or averted eyes wherever he goes.

Old Man Solo, they call him. Never mind that he’s not old. Not that old, anyway. But it fits the stories they whisper about him. That he killed his family. Buried them somewhere in the yard. Uses his salt to mask the smell. That he’s a monster. It doesn’t feel too far from the truth. He had, after all, made every effort to kill his memories of them. Buried the memories that wouldn’t die. Thrown himself into his work.

He’d been better, for a while. Or he thought he had. His thoughts turn to bright, hazel eyes shimmering with tears. _Had it really already been a year?_

He does sigh then, pushing those thoughts away to resume his work.

———————

The next day his shovel gets caught in some ice as he tries to break it up. It takes a good pull and a sliced palm to get it loose. It’s just his luck that he’s out of proper bandages. He wraps it using rags from an old shirt and makes his way into town. Thankfully, the shop isn’t very busy. There’s only a small boy ahead of him once he makes his way to the counter. The same boy, he realizes, as he rests his hands on the counter and hears a small gasp.

The boy gapes up at him, eyes wide as he backs away. It takes only another moment before he turns and runs, the cashier calling after him.

“Sorry about that,” the cashier breaks off with a small gasp when she sees his scar. “Sir. Sorry, about that, sir.”

His mood darkens. He throws down enough money for his bandages as well as the stolen toothbrush (his fault for scaring the boy, he thinks). “Keep the change.” And he storms away, ignoring her flustered response.

It’s hard not to take it personally that the boy had run from him not once but twice. Still, Ben tries to shake it off. But watching people leave was nothing new. In most cases, he knew exactly where he’d gone wrong.

_“Of course you don’t understand. You don’t have family!”_

He flinches at the memory.

He deserves every wide-eyed stare. Every rumor. Every whisper. Every gasp.

They’re right after all. He _is_ a monster.

———————

He knows it’ll be torture, but he goes anyway. Like he does every few weeks. They’ve already started by the time he arrives. He grabs a seat somewhere in the middle—no use trying to hide when the church is mostly empty. As usual, he has the row to himself.

His breath catches at the sight of her. Eyes bright, soft smile. She doesn’t visibly react, but he expects she knows he’s back. They’d always had a knack for sensing each other. He had tried hiding the first time he came here. But her head turned, searching the seats just out of her line of vision until she spotted him. Confusion, then. A small frown. But she hadn’t said anything. So he stayed.

He’d stop if she asked. But she never does. So he keeps returning, drawn by her light.

It’s more crowded than usual tonight—a direct result of the holiday, he assumes. He spots a familiar head off to his left. The boy.

He’s alone again. Ben frowns at that, concern flooding him. It takes him by surprise. He’d never really been great with kids. His childhood, he’d always argued, made him ill-equipped for parenting and dealing with children in general. Still, the lonely child stirs something within him. _It’s not right._ And so he finds himself moving over to the boy.

There’s a small gasp of fright again, wide eyes. But the boy doesn’t run. Ben doesn’t give him a chance to. “Merry Christmas,” he rushes out, a little breathless but hopeful. The fear turns to surprise, so he continues. “May I sit?”

He breathes a sigh of relief at the boy’s nod and slides himself next to him. They both stare ahead, watching the choir. It becomes a bit uncomfortable. “I come here to see her.” He feels the boy glance over, sees him track his gaze to find her. She turns, then. Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees he’s not sitting alone. They turn to confusion as she takes in the boy. “You probably don’t remember her.”

“No. Should I?”

“You live next to me, right?” The boy nods. “She used to live with me.”

“Oh,” the boy’s brow furrows. “She doesn’t anymore?”

“No. Not anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ben brushes past the apology. “You know, you can say hello when you see me. You don’t have to scream, or run.” The boy looks skeptical and a little embarrassed. “I know what they say about me. But that stuff’s not true.”

“It’s not?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I might be a bit of a grump, but definitely not a killer.” The boy smiles at that. “How about you? You a good kid?”

“Of course.”

“Swear?” The boy bites his lip, shaking his head. “Didn’t think so. Not a lot of good kids alone in a church on Christmas Eve. But this is a good place to be if you’re feeling bad.”

“It is?”

“I think so.”

“Are you feeling bad?”

Ben feels his heart clench. It’s an innocent question, yet it strikes right at the heart of him. “Sometimes,” he chokes out.

The boy just nods. “I've been kind of a pain lately. I said some things I shouldn't have. I really haven't been too good this year.”

“Yeah?”

“I'm kind of upset because I really like my family, even though sometimes I say I don't. Sometimes I even think I don't. Do you get that?”

_More than you could possibly know,_ he thinks. “Yes. Family can be complicated.” He should stop there, but he can’t help the flow of emotions bursting forth. “Deep down, you’ll always love them. But you forget sometimes. You hurt them. They hurt you. It’s not just because you’re young.”

“No?”

“No. In fact, you want to know the real reason I’m here?” The boy nods. “I came to hear her sing. Because I miss her. And I can’t come tonight.”

“You have plans?”

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t be welcome.”

“At church?”

“No. I’m not welcome with my family.” The boy frowns. “Years back, we had a big argument. Lost our tempers. I told them I didn’t want to see them anymore. They didn’t stop me. We haven’t spoken since.”

“But what does that have to do with her?”

“She’s close with them. She wanted me to talk to them again. We fought about it. I lost my temper again. Now I only see her here.”

“But you miss her?”

“Every day.”

“And them?”

“What?” He turns to the boy, surprised.

“Your family, I mean. You miss them, too.” He can only nod. The boy had seen right through him. “So, why not call them?”

“I’m afraid they won’t talk to me.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t. I’m just afraid.”

“Afraid? Aren’t you too old for that?” the boy snorts.

“You’re never too old to be afraid.”

“That's true. I've always been afraid of our basement. It's dark, there's weird stuff down there, and it smells funny; that sort of thing. It's bothered me for years.”

“Basements are definitely scary.”

“I made myself go down to do some laundry, and I found out it's not so bad. All this time I've been worried about it, but if you turn on the lights, it's no big deal.”

“What’s your point?” Ben arches an eyebrow and the boy smiles.

“My point is, you should call your family. And talk to her.” The boy points to where she’s singing. Ben watches her, feels the warmth the sight of her always brings him.

“What is they won’t talk to me?”

“At least you'll know. Then you could stop worrying about it. Then you won't have to be afraid anymore. Especially around the holidays.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know.”

“Just give it a shot.” The boy gestures to her again. “I’m sure she misses you. I’m sure they miss you.”

“You better run along home, kid.”

“Okay.”

“It was nice talking to you,” Ben murmurs as the boy moves past him to exit. The boys turns back, holding out a hand.

“Nice talking to you, too.” They shake. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. You and your family?”

“We’ll see what happens.” Ben smiles softly, looking again to where she sings. “Merry Christmas, kid.”

“Merry Christmas!”

———————

He sits there for a while after the boy leaves. The boy had smiled at him as he left. Ben can’t remember the last time a kid smiled at him. _I’ll have to check on him later,_ he thinks.

“Ben?”

He stiffens at her voice. He hadn’t noticed the singing had stopped. Hadn’t realized he should have been on his way, too. He sighs, recognizing he’s trapped as he turns to face her. He voice is not quite as steady as it should be when he replies. “Rey.”

The softness of her gaze takes him by surprise a second time. He’d been prepared for anger. Maybe even sadness. But this looks—happy? “Back again?”

“Uhhh, yeah. I mean—I don’t have to. I just like hearing you sing. I-I can leave. I wasn’t trying to—I mean, I can just,” he breaks out when she laughs. He flushes and sheepishly meets her gaze again.

“I’m happy you’re here.” He’s gaping now. “I might’ve been happier if you talked to me.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me. The things I said—”

“We both said things,” she interrupts. For the first time in a long time, he feels something akin to hope.

“You were just being honest. I was just trying to hurt you.” He grasps her hand, so sure he’s dreaming. That she’ll disappear in just a moment. “I’m so sorry, Rey.”

“Ben,” she murmurs. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“Home?” He must’ve misheard her, But she nods when he stares up at her. There are tears trailing down his cheeks. He nods shakily and stands when she tugs at him. “Rey?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we—,” he breaks off. She waits. He’s not sure he has the strength, but he remembers the boy’s words. “Can we call my parents? I mean—can you be there? When I call?”

Tears brim in her eyes and she bites her lip. Laughing, she nods. “Of course. Of course we can.”

“Rey,” he chokes out, but she cuts him off.

“I know.”

And when she presses her lips to his, he finally lets himself believe it’s real.

———————

He sits in the dark of his—their—bedroom later, stroking his hand along her back while she sleeps. They’d talked for a while. Confessions made, moments shared.

And then he’d called his parents. She’d stayed right next to him, grasping his hand the whole time.

_“Hello?” His mother answers. His breath catches at her voice and he can feel tears already rolling down his cheeks. “Hello?”_

_“Mom?” he chokes out, voice trembling._

_There’s silence on the other end. This is it, he thinks, this is where she hangs up. Even Rey has stopped breathing. “Ben? Is that you?” His mother’s voice is shaky now, but there’s no anger._

_“I’m sorry,” he exhales, openly sobbing now, “I’m so sorry.”_

_“No, Ben. No. I’m sorry. We’re sorry.” He hears muffled conversation in the background, his dad’s gruff voice. Rey rubs her hand soothingly on his back._

_“Ben? That you?”_

_“Dad…”_

_“Hey, kid.”_

There’d been more conversation after that. More tears. And there are sure to be more tomorrow when they come over. He still can’t believe it.

Shadows move across the ceiling and he frowns, untucking Rey from his side as he goes to look outside.

The boy.

Ben’s brow furrows as he watches the boy running across the street. _What time is it?_ Then, panic when he notices two shadows chasing after the boy. He’s downstairs before he can think about it, shoving his feet back into his boots, his arms into his coat. He grabs his shovel as he runs out, hoping he’s misunderstood something.

It doesn’t take long to realize he hasn’t. And he’s glad he listened to his instincts as he creeps into the Murphys’ kitchen.

“And we’re going to smash his face with an iron.” The two men don’t notice his entrance. They’re both staring at the boy where they have him hanging on the back of the door.

“I’d like to slap him in the face with a paint can, maybe.”

“And shove a nail through his foot!”

_What the fuck?!_ Ben’s anger spikes. _He’s just a kid!_

“The first thing I'm gonna do is bite off every one of these little fingers, one at a time.”

He doesn’t wait to hear more. He brings his shovel down hard against the shorter one’s head and the man goes down instantly. The other spins around in surprise, but Ben has already brought the shovel back down again, catching him in the face. He ignores their bodies in favor of grabbing the boy.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.” The boy nods shakily and Ben carries him out and across the street. He could worry about the men later. “You okay, kid?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Mr. Solo.”

“Of course, kid. Definitely don’t want other bad guys taking my place, right?” He winks down at the boy as he places him down by his door. The boy chuckles, relaxing finally. Ben frowns down at the front steps when he notices the thick layer of ice encasing them. _How did—?_ He shakes it off, leading the boy instead to the back. “Let’s get you inside so we can call the police.”

“Oh, I already did.” Ben freezes, glancing down to where the boy stares innocently up at him.

“You did?”

“Yup.”

“Pretty brave of you.”

The boy just shrugs. “I had to defend the house.”

“Defend the house?”

“Yup. And I did.” The boy turns to go inside, but pauses to look back at Ben. “You won’t tell my parents, will you?”

He stares the boy down. It’s probably something the parents should know about. But the boy _is_ fine. And the police are already on their way. He sees the flashing lights even now down the block. So, with a shake of his head and an exasperated laugh, he agrees. “Sure, kid.”

“Thanks, Mr. Solo! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, kid.”

“Kevin.”

“Merry Christmas, Kevin.”

Rey stirs when he returns to bed, pulling back to look up at him with some confusion. “Ben? You’re so cold. Where’d you go?”

“I had to check on the neighbor kid. Sorry I woke you.”

“You? Voluntarily checking on a kid?” She arches a brow in disbelief.

He laughs, pulling her closer to kiss her forehead. “Yes. Turns out I’m not as bad with kids as I thought I was.”

“Ben,” she starts, her voice shaking a little, but he cuts her off with a quick kiss.

“Shhh. We can talk about it tomorrow. Now go back to sleep.”

She nods with a soft smile, curling against him to drift off once more. He follows soon after, dreaming of a dark-haired boy playing in the snow.

———————

He wakes early, anxious for what’s coming. He cooks a stupid amount of food while Rey plays the role of willing taste-tester. She offers both quiet and vocal reassurance from her seat at the kitchen table. He feels like he’ll never be ready for what’s coming. But then Rey jumps up to grasp his hand, sensing the direction of his thoughts. He smiles gratefully at her.

The sound of a car outside brings back all the tension. He can’t just wait here. He throws on his coat, helping Rey into hers too. And he tracks down the driveway to meet them. Rey holds tightly to his arm, rubbing soothingly with her thumbs.

He’d imagined this a million times. A million different ways. But he can’t believe they’re actually here. No anger. No yelling. In fact, they both look almost as nervous as he feels. They both freeze when they look up and see him standing there. He swallows nervously. Rey gives him arm a soft squeeze.

“Mom, Dad.”

“Oh, Ben!” Leia rushes forward, pulling him into a hug. He buries his face against his mom, tears pooling in his eyes again. She pulls away and frames his face with her hands, smiling up at him. He returns the smile with one of his own before she turns to pull Rey into a hug.

Han hovers nervously, hands in his pockets. Ben glances around him pointedly.

“Still driving that piece of junk?”

“Hey! She’s got it where it counts, kid.” They both smile before sobering.

“Dad—,” he starts.

“I know.”

And they both step forward, grasping one another in a hug. Leia beams at them.

He gestures them both inside and Rey hangs back after a one-armed hug with Han. Ben pulls her into another hug.

“I love you, Rey.”

“I love you too, Ben.”

And over her shoulder, he sees Kevin watching from the window. Their eyes meet. Kevin raises his hand to wave and Ben does the same, returning it with a bright smile and a nod.

Not afraid anymore, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit me on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/roxiefierce)!
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated! 💕


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